a camera called the heart
by dear daydreamer
Summary: These memories will never fade, even if their bond has.—ogiwara/kuroko; three-shot. ON HOLD


**title** a camera called the heart

**word count** 4447

**summary** These memories will never fade, even if their bond has.—ogiwara/kuroko; three-shot

**notes** I'm starting school in September so I most likely won't be updating for a while. My keyboard is also completely shot so… yeah. I decided to rewrite it and reupload it, deleting the old story. In addition to that, the old version needed some clean-up as well, so yeah.

These prompts are from the 30 Day Writing Challenge and I simply shuffled them so they fit better.

This will be part one of three chapters. Each chapter will contain ten drabbles of varying length. The other two sets of drabbles will be posted sometime (hopefully) before September.

* * *

**mini arc one—drabble one / "look"**

Kuroko wasn't the type that usually got double takes. In fact, he was often forgotten and overlooked. The fifth grader was average in several aspects, making it easier for him to blend into a crowd. The fact that he was quiet by nature and didn't speak until addressed didn't help either. Rather, it further accentuated his "transparency".

So when a dark-haired boy walked onto the nearly empty basketball court and noticed Kuroko almost instantly, he had cried, because _finally,_ someone had noticed him without Kuroko talking first. Of course, the boy realized that Kuroko was crying and immediately went into panic mode, asking him why he was crying and the like.

Wiping his eyes, Kuroko explained that it was nothing, just some dust in his eye. The other didn't look convinced, but he didn't press further. The boy told him that he was Ogiwara Shigehiro, also a fifth grader, but from a different school. Ogiwara told him that he was drawn to the sound of a dribbling basketball and went to check it out since as far as he had known, he was the only one from his neighborhood that played. Of course, other kids played but they were older and often overlooked him.

Kuroko explained that he had enjoyed watching basketball, the movements, and the graceful arcs that the ball took, everything; he wanted to try it out.

Ogiwara grinned, "So you're a first-timer, huh? Can I play with you?"

Kuroko stared worriedly. He knew he was average at everything and it was unlikely that it would be different with basketball. Besides he didn't know the solid rules of the game, it's just…the alluring sound of the dribbling ball. "Yes, but I don't know how to play."

"I'll teach you, then!" Ogiwara exclaimed, a wide smile on his face.

And so, Ogiwara spent the next few hours teaching Kuroko the basics of basketball. Throughout it all, the dark-haired boy's eyes didn't stray away from him; always watching him, making sure his form was correct and telling him some rules.

At first, if Kuroko was perfectly honest, it was uncomfortable and almost unnerving. But it ebbed away slowly because, in a sense, this was what he always _wanted_. Perhaps he never voiced it, but he had craved the attention, every child did, really.

Somewhere in Kuroko's subconscious, he made Ogiwara _special_, because he could _see_ him. He noticed him.

* * *

**mini arc one—drabble two / "beginnings"**

The moment that Ogiwara noticed Kuroko, he had thought Kuroko was strange, but in a good way, like one-in-a-thousand-extraordinary kind of way. Ogiwara hadn't noticed him right away; the boy seemed to blend perfectly into the background. But there was something that pushed him to look _harder_, to look for something that he wasn't sure was there.

When he finally, well, _saw_ him, Ogiwara wondered how the heck he _hadn't_ seen him. Kuroko had baby blue hair and eyes a few shades darker. But then the blue-haired boy had cried after Ogiwara had greeted him and then he knew that the blue-haired boy wasn't _used_ to being seen. Without him speaking up first, that is.

And when Kuroko told him that he had watched a basketball game and wished to try it, Ogiwara saw something in Kuroko. He thought, no, _knew_ that this was the beginning of a special player.

Now, Ogiwara isn't one to judge others based on their appearances, but he just _knew_. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but he couldn't shake off the look in Kuroko's eyes—passion, for a sport he hadn't even known existed 'till a few days earlier! It was in his eyes whenever Ogiwara taught him how to dribble or shoot, when he had introduced forms to him and the like.

And, perhaps, it was foolish to jump to conclusions about someone he had only met a few hours prior, but he believed that this was the start of a friendship that would leave imprints on his heart.

What he didn't know was it was the exact same for Kuroko.

* * *

**mini arc one—drabble three / "formal"**

Kuroko, Ogiwara thinks, is very proper. He addresses everyone by their last name with the appropriate suffix—not too close yet not too distant. However, it's when they talk about jokes, their favorite players, and their preferred shows that he stiffens up.

It was slightly depressing to see someone so passionate be so…closed up. And so, Ogiwara made it his goal to break Kuroko's awkwardness, at least a little.

* * *

Ogiwara rings the doorbell, shifting his duffel bag's strap so it didn't dig into his shoulder too much. It's barely four in the afternoon and the heat doesn't make it any better for his boredom. He looks around, the house he stands in front of isn't extravagant, but it isn't small in the least. It has a nice yard with pretty flowers decorating here and there.

The door creaks open and reveals a tall woman in a business suit with powder blue hair, possibly a shade or two darker than Kuroko's and oval-shaped gray eyes.

"Oh, you must be Tetsuya's friend." The woman says.

Ogiwara grins at the mention of Kuroko. "I'm Ogiwara Shigehiro; nice to meet you, Kuroko's mom."

She smiles politely and widens the door to let him in. Ogiwara shoves off his worn sneakers and walks in, distinctly hearing Kuroko's mother shut the door after him. He's about to ask where Kuroko is when the pale-boy walks out of a room at the end of a hall.

"Ah, Ogiwara-kun. You're a bit early." Says Kuroko. "Give me a minute, unless you'd like to meet my grandmother."

Ogiwara grins, "Can I?"

Kuroko smiles softly, "If you'd like too, Ogiwara-kun."

Ogiwara bobs his head up and down. Before they visit Kuroko's grandmother, Kuroko directs Ogiwara to his room where he can put his duffel bag and the two head to the room at the end of the hall. The duo enter Kuroko's grandmother's room.

The room is small, yet fairly homey, Ogiwara thinks. It has this warm vibe to it that makes you just want to settle down and relax because it feels like _home_. An old woman is seated on the bed.

"Hello, grandmother." Says Kuroko, polite as ever.

The old lady smile toothily, wrinkles crinkling at the corner of her eyes. She is quite pretty, Ogiwara thinks, for a woman in her sixties. Her face is rippled with wrinkles, but you could tell by the slope of her nose, the curve of her lips, and the twinkling of her eyes that in her youth she was gorgeous. Her hair is scooped up into a bun, some wisps of graying brown hair slipping out of the clip.

"Tetsuya, hello!" She acknowledges her grandson, and then turns to his companion. "Oh, you've brought a visitor!"

Ogiwara introduces himself, "I'm Ogiwara Shigehiro, nice to meet you, Kuroko's grandma."

"Bah!" Exclaims Kuroko's grandma. "Call me 'Grandma Mami'. Now, you're the one that Kuroko's been talking non-stop about?"

Kuroko stiffens a bit, "Grandmother." He _almost _whines.

"Hush, Tetsuya." Lightly scolds Grandma Mami, "Now, my Tetsuya has been talking a lot about you. Says you've taught him basketball and you're quite good at it yourself. However, you go to a different school, is that right?"

Ogiwara grins upon learning that his friend has been talking about him. "Yeah." He tells her what school he goes to and the ice is broken.

They speak for at least an hour before Grandma Mami ushers them out for she feels tired. Ogiwara hadn't even realized an hour had flown by because really, that woman could _speak_. She spoke of days when she and Kuroko would take walks around the park, the times that Kuroko had gotten lost because his father was a bit air-headed, and the like.

And, judging by the slow tensing of Kuroko's body, all of the stories were true. Really, as far as Ogiwara knew—the time they first met excluded—Kuroko had always kept a straight face.

It was almost unnerving to Ogiwara, and he added it to the list as something to break from Kuroko along with his strange formality that should only be known to acquaintances. He shakes himself out of his thoughts when Kuroko tugs him into his room and Ogiwara suggests that they play basketball at the court nearby.

Kuroko nods in compliance and Ogiwara shuffles through his duffel bag, pulling out his basketball. Before they head to the court, the pale fifth-grader tells Ogiwara that they must tell his parents.

The duo exit Kuroko's room and pass by a half-open room where they see Kuroko's mother tap-tap-tapping away on her laptop. Entering the kitchen, they spot an adult male who Ogiwara later learns to be Kuroko's dad, humming a cheery tune and mixing a batter of _something_. (If Ogiwara was honest, he had _no idea_ what the bowl contained, but if dinner that night was any indication, it was _delicious_.)

It's just a _little_ disturbing to see a man with _gigantic_ biceps and bulging pectorals stir a bowl of _something_ and hum to _The Best of Both Worlds_ by Hannah Montana. (Ogiwara later denies that _no, he hadn't been listening to that song just before he came here. The only reason that he knew the beat to aforementioned song is because his friend's cousin's sister's best friend's thrice removed uncle was obsessed with it. Yeah, that's right._) Just a little. Joking aside, the man was _huge_—built with only muscles on muscles _on muscles_. Huh, Kuroko must've gotten more genetics from his mother's side. Though, on closer inspection, he noticed that Kuroko's dad had the same shade of blue eyes that Kuroko did. Huh, well, he inherited something from his father.

Ogiwara is pulled from his musings when Kuroko calls out to his dad.

"Dad, I'm going ou—"

He doesn't get to finish because the man shrieks and jumps a good foot in the air and the bowl of _something_ slips from his fingers and hits the counter, some of the contents spilling.

"What in the seven hel—Kuroko Tetsuya! What did I tell you about suddenly showing up." The man lightly scolds, before glancing at his companion. "Ah? Who's this?"

Kuroko apologizes to his dad before introducing Ogiwara; his dad laughs it off before sending them on their way. "Dinner will be ready at six thirty, so don't be out too long."

The two leave and head to the basketball court. There, they dribble, pass, and shoot as much as they can before they tire out. It's a bit difficult passing to Kuroko, since sometimes he seemed to escape Ogiwara's vision, but he soon got used to it. Even then, however, it was mostly the pale fifth grader passing to Ogiwara, which frustrated the dark-haired boy greatly.

Fourty minutes later, the two are both panting and lying on the ground, dog tired and ready to go back. The sun hasn't even set yet, and Ogiwara curses the summer sun set times. By the time they reach Kuroko's house again, dinner is nearly ready and they grab water bottles before shuffling to Kuroko's room.

The two (mostly Ogiwara) talk about random things like their favorite players to their favorite color (apparently Kuroko's favorite flavor of all time was vanilla for the simple yet classic taste while Ogiwara was more of a chocolate person. They both agreed, however, that strawberry was delicious.)

The group of five eat at the dinner table, having small talk here and there. Grandma Mami is the most talkative, bringing up topics and making all of them laugh and just warming up the atmosphere. Really, that woman must've been quite popular when she was younger for being so sociable.

After dinner, Kuroko's dad _insists_ that he and Kuroko take a shower because frankly, they stank. After the bath, they watch some shows till it's ten thirty and they have to go to bed.

Ogiwara lies on the floor with Kuroko next to him. In the darkness, with only the moon creeping through the curtains of the window as his light, Ogiwara can only catch glimpses of Kuroko's bright pale blue hair.

"Hey, Kuroko. Are you asleep?" Ogiwara asks, poking Kuroko's shoulder for extra measure.

Kuroko shifts slightly and says in a soft, slightly drowsy voice. "Yes, Ogiwara-kun?" Hah, he's polite even sleepy.

"Why don't you call me 'Shigehiro-kun' or even 'Shige-kun'? Isn't it a mouthful to say 'Ogiwara-kun' everytime?" Ogiwara says, although he can feel his eyes drooping, he's exhausted.

"It's simply inappropriate." Kuroko says simply.

Ogiwara mumbles lazily before he drifts into slumber. "You should at least call me… Shige-kun…" And he's out like a light.

Unbeknownst to him, Kuroko has just turned over, a soft smile on his lips. "I will, when you call me Tetsuya, Shige-kun." He murmurs before he too sleeps.

* * *

One quick scan over the court full of people and he spots a messy mop of powder blue hair. He grins widely as he dashes forward, "Kuroko!"

Kuroko turns, a twitch of his lips upward. "Ah, Ogiwara-kun."

Ogiwara slings his arm around the shorter teen, "It's been a while, huh? Two years I think? Hey, hey, won't you call me Shigehiro-kun now?"

"Time sure flies." Kuroko says, "You have a grain of rice on your cheek, Ogiwara-kun."

Ogiwara picks it off his cheek. "Ah, it's from my lunch."

"Even after two years, you haven't changed; it's the usual you, Ogiwara-kun." _Even after two years, nothing has changed._

Ogiwara grins, because Kuroko is still his formal self, and he is still his slightly airheaded self. Ah, well, he was still determined to break that formal streak.

* * *

**mini arc one—drabble four / "companion"**

Even though it was fall, it was still hot as hell. The summer heat that had yet to pass had caused even _more_ sweat to drip down Ogiwara's face as he sat under the shade of a tree. For once, it was _far_ too hot to play basketball, believe him, he and Kuroko had tried. Five minutes into their mock-match, the two sunk to the ground and practically _crawled_ to the tree for cover.

Ogiwara attempted to fan himself with a large leaf while Kuroko was reading; he had pulled out a book from his bag. Suddenly, it _hit_ Ogiwara! That one store was just a few minutes away. Pulling himself to his feet, Ogiwara forced a reluctant Kuroko up and practically _dragged_ the pale fifth grader along with him.

They walked to the aforementioned store and Ogiwara made him stand outside while he bought the items. When outside, Ogiwara placed a cold item in Kuroko's hands.

Kuroko stared at the item. "Ice cream…?"

"Not just _any_ ice cream! Chu Chu popsicles, strawberry flavor too! You gotta try it, it's the best!" Ogiwara promised. The tips of the two popsicles were already cut thanks to the helpful old man behind the counter.

Kuroko hesitated before taking a bite and chewing. His lips twitched upwards and took another bite of the sweet and cool treat.

"It's good, huh?" Ogiwara asked. His reply was a simple nod.

The two walk back to the tree as Ogiwara babbled about random things. "You know, usually it isn't this good, but I guess eating with company is better." He grinned.

Kuroko's lips twitched around the frozen treat. "Yes." Was his simple answer.

It was unspoken, yet very clear in each other's subconscious that every time they would get the popsicles, they would get them together. To them, eating the popsicles without the other was like having black without white. You just couldn't have one without the other.

* * *

**mini arc one—drabble five / "silver"**

Fall had transitioned into winter, which in turn, shifted to spring—late spring to be exact. The weather was starting to heat up again, but there were some light showers here and there from time to time. Ogiwara pondered on several things, which, most of the time, was the source of his absent-mindedness.

Some may call him a ditz, but he was actually quite intellectual, thank you very much. It's just that sometimes he was too deep into his thoughts that he missed things like grains of rice on his cheeks and talking with his mouth full of water—the little things, really.

Today, he was wondering the importance about the silver band Kuroko's parents wore. His dad didn't wear it, something about his mom leaving him and taking the ring with her to sell or something. It didn't really matter.

Ogiwara nudged Kuroko. "Hey, Kuroko."

Kuroko flipped a page from his book. "Yes, Ogiwara-kun?"

"Why do your parents wear their rings?" Of course, he knew that it was of great importance, it was just—to him, that is—that he never knew the specific reason _why_.

Kuroko explained. "It's a symbol of their commitment to each other."

Ogiwara hummed, his curiosity sated with the curt answer. "Hm…so a ring is that important, huh?" Kuroko didn't reply, as the answer was obvious.

Two days later, Ogiwara is running full speed at Kuroko, a hand shoved in his pocket as he waves frantically at him. "Kuroko~o!"

Kuroko stops as the dark-haired teen ceases running when within arm's length of Kuroko. Carefully, Ogiwara pulled out his hand, fingers curled and nails sinking into his palm. "You said that a ring is a symbol of commitment, right? Well, here's my ring to you."

He uncurls his fingers and reveals a slightly squashed flower with its stem twisted so it vaguely resembles a ring. It's nothing like the gorgeous band around his mother and father's left ring finger and is decent at its very best. Kuroko is sure it's missing at least two petals, the loop part of it seems a size too big, and the flower itself seemed smushed from the weight of Ogiwara's fingers earlier.

Kuroko accepts it though, because he can see that Ogiwara had tried his best and really, it was very kind of him to do so.

That night, Kuroko asks his father to help him press the flower into an album where he saves several pictures of him and Ogiwara and labels it appropriately.

* * *

**mini arc one—drabble six / "simple"**

If he was perfectly honest with himself, Ogiwara's life was relatively simple. He had friends, his dad, and basketball. He knew what he liked (basketball, his handheld fan, chu chu popsicles) and what he disliked (deliberate fouls, bullies, cheaters) and despite his appearance, often categorized his life into lists.

So when Kuroko walks into his life, Ogiwara isn't sure what to do. He's never had a friend who liked playing basketball (his friends preferred cops and robbers over the sport) and anyone he's met who's ever played basketball wasn't in his age group.

It was then on a spring day after a mock-game that Ogiwara realizes that _Kuroko is special_. It wasn't the typical type of special either, no, it was the way he walked, spoke, _was_. He was an enigma of sorts.

To others, the pale boy seemed dead, blank, and maybe even boring. But to Ogiwara, Kuroko is probably the liveliest person he's ever met, in his own special way. It's the subtle sassy undertone that Kuroko's slowly developing, the way he runs with all his might. It's in his form when Ogiwara sees the way he dribbles and shoots and fails, but gets back up, even if he'll never get it.

And to Ogiwara, that's what living is about; falling, but getting up, every single time.

Because Kuroko is extraordinary, Ogiwara doesn't how to categorize him in his life. Kuroko is complex and the dark-haired boy isn't sure he likes that. However, he knows that he likes the occasional upward twitch of the pale boy's lips and the light in Kuroko's eyes when finally getting something done, the determination he practically _radiates,_ andand—just so much.

So Ogiwara reluctantly makes a special list for Kuroko, even if it'll mess up everything. He supposes Kuroko is worth it, and he can vouch for it if he needs to.

He doesn't know it yet, but by letting a complicated person like Kuroko into his life, everything in it will change from clean and easy to something more messy.

* * *

**mini arc two—drabble seven / "summer"**

The cherry blossoms had come and gone, withering away before the unbearable summer heat started settling in. To Ogiwara, spring was the best season _ever_.

He had met a not-so-new-anymore basketball buddy who he could eat _Chu Chu Popsicles_ with and talk and sleep with. Now, that isn't to say he didn't appreciate his other friends. Oh no, it's just that they were too busy playing cops and robbers most of the time to even consider the wonderful sport that was basketball.

Kuroko wasn't anything like that. Though, Ogiwara supposes, it might be because Kuroko didn't really _have_ any friends other than him. It wasn't that Kuroko was cold or rude; it was because they couldn't, well, _see_ him. Ogiwara's tried to show his friends Kuroko, but they seem to think of him as a ghost-like being that would haunt them if they got too close. Honestly, sometimes Ogiwara thinks that playing cops and robbers had started going to their head.

Ogiwara is brought out of his thoughts when something cool, what he later learns to be a cube of ice, is placed in his shirt. He jerks up in surprise, shaking his shirt, making the semi-melted cube fall onto the grass with a plop. He turns around and stares at Kuroko who's looking around innocently as if he hadn't placed an ice cube down his shirt.

"Kuroko~o!" Ogiwara mock-growls before playfully tugging the shorter boy in a headlock.

Kuroko half-struggles as Ogiwara none-too-gently noogies him. The dark-haired boy laughs outright, a wide grin on his face while Kuroko smiles softly.

Eventually Ogiwara lets go of the other and they settle down on the dried grass; the ice cube has already melted and became a dark spot in the ground. Ogiwara picks up his handheld fan, trying to cool himself while Kuroko attempts to spin the basketball on his finger. It is silent for a while because Ogiwara is too busy thinking about the slow development of Kuroko's personality and the shorter boy just isn't very talkative.

Mentally, Ogiwara ponders on how everyone's perspective on Kuroko is. Sure, he is still polite, using last names and always acting appropriately depending on the relationship. However, the others seem to think that because of that, Kuroko can be walked over and that he is soft and can break easily.

They are wrong, Ogiwara thinks—no, knows—because he's seen Kuroko at practice. He's seen the way the boy practically crawls from hell and back to improve himself, the way his spirit is _unbreakable_. Yet out of practice, he is still unbreakable; he is not porcelain—cold and lifeless—that could break with the littlest of touches. No, he is steel—still a bit cold but can warm up if given the time.

Ogiwara retracts his earlier judgment that Kuroko is only full of life during games because the shorter boy is always energetic; it's just a different kind. His spirit is full of energy but his body can't keep up and it's a real shame.

But it's okay because he'll always treasure the small tips and advice he can give Kuroko whenever the boy asks for shooting help and the way their fingers brush when walking back from the court and the small secret smiles they have whenever they share a _Chu Chu Popsicle_ to fend off the summer heat and_and—_Ogiwara stops reminiscing because suddenly there's weight on his shoulder as Kuroko leans into him.

"I apologize, Ogiwara-kun, it's very hot and I'd like to be fanned as well." Explains Kuroko and the dark-haired boy complies.

Although spring is the best, summer isn't too bad, if it means that he gets to sit this close to Kuroko, Ogiwara thinks.

* * *

**mini arc two—drabble eight / "haze"**

Kuroko's summer vacation was a blur, really. He remembered hanging out with Ogiwara-kun—eating Chu Chu popsicles and basketball—and spending some quality time with his family. However, he was able to pick out little bits that his mind apparently favored.

There was the time that his dad had bought him a new basketball plus shoes since his old one was getting flat and the sneakers were literally ripping in half, his mother taking him to work that one day, and a lot of snippets of when he was practicing with Ogiwara-kun. There was also that time Ogiwara drank Kuroko's Pocari Sweat after he had already opened it, though Kuroko wasn't sure why his subconscious had remember that particular event.

Other than that, Kuroko could vouch and swear up and down that the rest of his summer vacation had been a blur.

.

**mini arc two—drabble nine / "sunset"**

The two sat down on the court's slightly warm floor. This was their last day of summer vacation, which meant their last day of being together, save for weekends. Even then, sometimes they would miss each other because Kuroko had to spend some more days with his grandma or Ogiwara would be hanging out with his other friends.

So, the duo were sitting crisscrossed across the warm court and watched the sun sink lower, leaving streaks of brilliant orange-pink shades, yellow, purpleish clouds.

Kuroko leaned his head on the Ogiwara's shoulder and Ogiwara rested his head on Kuroko's. The two watched the sun set in silence.

* * *

**mini arc three—drabble ten / "winter"**

Winter had come with chilling winds, storms, and some snow here and there. Kuroko huffed irritably, causing a puff of semi-transparent air to flow past his lips and fade away. While he didn't exactly mind winter, it was extremely hard to talk to Ogiwara-kun now.

Sure, they had their sleepovers but they couldn't play basketball at the old court. Well they could, but they wouldn't exactly be _comfortable_. You see, they would exercise till their thick clothing became too hot and stiff and would shed said clothing only to have a cold breeze sweep over them and cause them to throw on their jackets again. So, really, playing basketball was out of the question.

But then again, if it wasn't so cold, then Ogiwara wouldn't hug him for warmth underneath the covers during their sleepovers or hold his hand to warm his chilly fingers andand—a lot of things.

Even with those light touches, Kuroko still disliked winter.

* * *

**notes** annnd finished! Holy crap, I didn't expect this to be this long but ah, well, I'm kind of proud of it. So if you haven't figured out, I tried doing this chronological order but with slight skips because I doubt you guys want to read every single day of their time together and it went better with the prompts.

As of the end of this chapter, it's currently the winter of their sixth year.


End file.
